Never Let this Go
by JamesPotterwasntaseeker
Summary: The war just ended. For Draco and Hermione, they lost more than they thought-each other. Will Draco realize what he's done and wise up or will something else stand in their way?
1. Undisclosed Desires

**Never Let this Go**

**Chapter One**

**Undisclosed Desires**

_Would someone care to classify  
>Our broken hearts and twisted minds<br>So I can find someone to rely on  
>And run to them, to them<br>Full speed ahead  
>Oh, you are not useless<br>We are just_

_Misguided ghosts_  
><em>Travelin' endlessly<em>  
><em>The ones we trusted the most<em>  
><em>Pushed us far away<em>  
><em>And there's no one road<em>  
><em>We should not be the same<em>  
><em>But I'm just a ghost<em>  
><em>And still they echo me<em>  
><em>They echo me in circles<em>

* * *

><p>The end of the war brought a lot out in Hermione. She found out she was stronger than she thought she ever was. She found out that she was more than just a know-it-all-bookworm. She found out that things never seem to last now matter how much you wished and hoped they did. Hermione had made herself out to be a fool, which she rarely was. She knew when they started this <em>relationship<em>—a loose term that _he_ wasn't too pleased with—that things were going to be difficult and damn near impossible, but she did it anyway. She often wondered if it was for the challenge that presented itself or because she was willing to walk through Hell (literally) to be with him.

But she found out that he was willing to walk to the very gate of Hell and then stop. She knew that because when it came down to it, Draco Malfoy was still a coward. The war ended and he didn't even look her way. She knew he was worried about his parents through everything, but he never once wondered about her well-being. And it hurt. It hurt more than she realized it would. Hermione supposed she got her answer then; she had wanted to be with him after all.

There was nothing she could do about it as much as she wanted to at the moment. She wanted to focus on things that she could change, like, finding her parents and hopefully help them regain their memory, help rebuild Hogwarts, and most importantly finish her last year that she had to miss out on. She would keep herself busy so that she didn't have to think about that striking blond hair and grey eyes that haunted her everywhere.

She would be fine.

**~-O-~**

Hermione had been staying with the Weasleys. They wouldn't let her out of their sight and she didn't want to leave them alone either. After Fred's death, only a few days prior, was devastating to the whole family and the friends that knew Fred. Hermione rarely saw George in the days she was there. He kept himself locked away in their apartment. Molly had been worried sick about him, but Charlie had told her to let him be for the time being. Hermione was heartbroken for the whole family—her second family.

Hermione had tried to postpone her trip to see her parents, but Molly insisted that she not be silly and go find them. Hermione had asked if she was sure several (hundred) times, but every time Molly said to go. Hermione finally took her word for it and got her plane tickets.

Hermione was packing her close in the tiny suitcase she grabbed from her old house when she heard a knock on the doorframe from behind her. She turned her head and saw that Harry was standing there.

"Hey Harry," she said turning back to the pile of things that she was going to put in her bag. She had cast an Undetectable Extension Charm upon it.

"Hey Hermione, leaving tomorrow?"

"Mhmm. Are you going to be okay here?" Hermione asked, concern flooding her voice.

"I'll be fine. I'm sure Ron and Gin and the rest of the family will be ok too, for the most part. Don't worry. Go find your parents," Harry said as he sat on her bed.

Harry and Ron both fought her on bringing both or one of them to go with her, but Hermione knew that she had to do this by herself. Plus, The Weasleys needed Ron by their side through their grieving and Harry had enough traveling to last for a lifetime. He needed time to rest for once, but they fought her every step of the way, but she eventually won with logic. Hermione also had another reason she wanted to go alone. She needed to grieve alone over whatever she had with Draco.

"I know and I will, I hope. I'll write you guys and keep you updated as much as I can."

"I wouldn't expect anything less," Harry said with a small smile.

Hermione returned the smile and continued piling things in her suitcase. They were both quiet for a long time until Harry spoke.

"I know that you don't want to leave in a time like this, but I can't help to feel that you _need_ to leave England for a while."

Hermione was quiet as she continued to place books into her bag.

"Hermione…"

She sighed, closed her eyes and looked over at him.

"You're right."

"And I suppose you don't want to talk about it then."

"Not particularly," she said as she turned her head away from him and went back to packing.

"I see. Well, when you do, I'm here."

"I know and I thank you for that. I know I'll eventually want to talk about this. I don't like keeping secrets from you or Ron, but I don't know if I should tell him any time soon with—" She trailed off.

"And I do know, but he'll be even more hurt or angry if you didn't tell him."

"You're right," Hermione sighed. "But we'll cross that bridge when we get there, ok?"

"All right," Harry said getting up from the bed and heading towards the door.

"And Harry thanks again for…understanding even if I haven't told you anything."

"What are best friends for?" He asked giving her another smile and leaving the room.

Hermione sat down where Harry had only seconds ago and laid back. She looked up at the low ceiling that she had come to know very well over the years. Harry always seemed to know what was going on with her even if she didn't say much to him at all. And she was glad he was patient, two qualities that she loved about him.

**~-O-~**

The next day, Hermione was up extremely early to catch her flight. She slipped into the bathroom, silenced it and proceeded to take a quick shower. When she came out of the bathroom, Ron was standing there in all of his tall, lanky, bed-tousled hair glory. He yawned and rubbed his blue eyes.

"Good morning," he said sleepily.

"Erm…good morning, Ron," Hermione said awkwardly as she wrapped her towel around herself more securely and felt a blush creeping up her neck and cheeks.

"Leaving soon then?"

"Yeah, in about a half hour. What are you doing up?"

"I—erm—wanted to say goodbye."

"Oh ok. Well, let me get dressed and we can go downstairs and have breakfast together."

Hermione saw Ron's eyes widen as he finally realized that she was only had a tiny towel wrapped around her. He stammered an "okay" and headed down the stairs, two at a time. Hermione shook her head and headed quietly as possible into the room that she shared with Ginny.

The youngest redhead was knocked out cold. Hermione swore that she could sleep through any natural disaster. Hermione grabbed her wand and lit the tip as she searched for her clothes. She quickly dressed, grabbed her suitcase, and headed down the stairs. When she got to the foot of the staircase, she dropped her suitcase and quickly blow dried her hair.

Walking into the kitchen she noticed Molly was already up. When Molly heard her enter the kitchen, they exchanged "good mornings" and Hermione sat down in front of Ron, who still seemed to be slightly embarrassed about the state he caught her in a few minutes beforehand.

Molly set down a platter of food in the middle of the table and left Hermione and Ron alone.

"Are you excited to find your parents?" He asked her, the awkwardness he felt creeping into his tone.

"I am. I've missed them a great deal."

"That's good," he said giving her a small smile.

She returned it and started putting food on her plate. They ate in somewhat awkward silence. When Hermione was done, she washed her dish off and checked her bag one more time. Molly came back downstairs.

"Got everything, dear?" She asked kindly. Hermione could see the concern in her eyes. She was touched and also saddened. She knew that by losing Fred she was afraid she'd lose her, too, thus making Hermione feel like she was a part of the family as well.

"I believe so," she said after she got her voice to work again.

"Good. Now you'll write us when you get there, right?" Hermione couldn't deny this woman anything with what she just went through and the hopeful desperation that she would write.

"Of course."

Molly hugged Hermione tightly. Hermione returned the hug, but not as tight. Molly let go and cupped her cheek like any adoring mother would. She wished her a safe trip and disappeared into the kitchen.

Ron came up to her next. He shuffled his feet for a moment and then looked down at her. Hermione looked up into Ron's eyes. She could see the terrible sadness in them from losing his brother. She wanted to do something to help him, but she had no idea what. She wanted to do that for everyone in his family. If she could bring Fred back she would.

Still looking up at Ron she thought about how much he put up a fight when she told him and Harry that she was going to go find her parents. He didn't speak to her for hours after she finally convinced them she needed to this alone. Not wanting to leave mad at each other, Hermione spoke to him and tried to explain why she needed to go, but left out the second reason. He finally conceded.

"Have a safe trip and I'll…miss you," he said as a blush spread over his cheeks and neck.

Hermione placed her arms around Ron's middle and hugged him. After a few seconds he wrapped his long arm around her as well. When Hermione pulled back she gave him a smile.

"I'll miss you too, Ron. I'll write you as much as I can."

Ron nodded and stepped back.

Hermione pushed the button on the top of her suitcase and extended the strap on it so she could pull it behind her. She waved at Molly and Ron and headed past the anti-apparation ward. She pushed the strap back down and held on tight to the suitcase as she apparated away.

**~-O-~**

Hermione boarded the plane and buckled herself in. She looked out the window at the airport. She hated flying. She had taken a plane a few times with her parents and every time she would close her eyes and breathe shallowly until they were in the air and stabilized. Her father would always poke fun at her for it and her mother would chide him for it, but she missed it.

She had no one to go to Australia with her. No one to hold her hand as they took off into the air. Harry, Ron, and Ginny had all volunteered to go with her, but she declined. Their family needed them more so than she did. She would get over the feeling of rocketing from the ground soon enough. It was momentary, their pain was not.

Hermione wished that one person would be with her. He had promised her after the war was truly over, he would accompany her to get her parents. She had no idea how she got him to promise something so important to her, but she did. She often wondered over the past two weeks if their _relationship _meant something to him as it did to her, but then she remembered that she hadn't heard from him and she knew the answer to that.

But it still didn't stop her from wishing that he was sitting right next to her complaining about Muggle transportation and how unsafe and slow it was. She could almost hear his voice in her head. She let out a quiet chuckle, but stopped remembering that he wasn't there. He'd never be there. And soon she would in a complete different country away from him for who knows how long. And part of her—the smallest part—was happy to be away from him completely, more so than she already was.

But the biggest part of her ached to see him again. And she felt ridiculous. Why couldn't she be happy to be rid of him like he was? He would have ruined her life if they continued on. She should be thanking him, but she knew she never would. Either way he ruined her life. He was a catch 22. If she stayed with him, her friends and family may have hated her for her choice just as his family and friends would hate him. And without him, she hated him for leaving her.

The pilot started talking over the speaker, interrupting her thoughts and she wanted to thank him too. She didn't have time to dwell upon Draco Malfoy and how he was ruining her life without even being present. Hermione made sure that she was secured in her belt and waited for the unpleasant feeling of lifting from the ground. She closed her eyes and thought about seeing her parents again. The people she missed most in the world. The people she was determined to make remember her once again. The people who would love her and never leave her.

* * *

><p>Draco finally felt like he could breathe again. It was a surreal feeling. He was free, completely and utterly free. He could almost throw his arms in the air and whoop and holler, but he refrained. He would never throw away years of training and good breeding for a moment of tomfoolery. But he knew that everything <em>wasn't<em> over just yet. He knew that his family would have to go to court to await their fate. And at the moment, Draco didn't even want to think about that.

He wanted to bask in the freedom he not had, for the moment. He wanted to soak up his freedom like it was the gravy and he was the biscuit. Voldermort was dead. It meant he got his house back. The Manor was far from the warm, inviting homes most people had. It really wasn't a _home_, but more like a museum. Though it was his home if he liked it or not. He grew up there and it was the only place he knew besides Hogwarts.

As his family entered their home, they stopped in the foyer. It was like they dared not move, like someone had to invite them in. But it was theirs now as it should have always been. But it didn't feel that way. They felt like guests in their own house for a long time and now that it was returned to them, they didn't know how to feel; to act.

Lucius took a tentative step into the hallway. Narcissa and Draco followed suit. They crept through the house until they reached the dining room. The mahogany table gleamed at them menacingly. It reminded them of all the horrors they saw over the years. They all stood in the doorway and continued to look around the room. It still held the sinister feel that Voldermort had invoked with his stay there.

They continued to move from room to room looking at the Manor that was returned to them in worse for wear condition. Draco walked up the stairs quietly as he could, he didn't even want to make a sound. The Manor was eerily quiet and he felt if he made a noise, Voldermort himself would rise from the dead and demand his head. So he made nary a sound as walked to his room.

He opened the door. It glided open and the doorknob hit the wall. Draco winced at the noise. He looked around his dusty room. The only thing that was in usable condition was his bed. It was the only thing that he had used the whole time Voldermort took over his house—that and the bathroom. Dust lying thickly over his drawers and closet. He took out his wand and muttered a quick _Scroungify_ to clear it quickly. It looked almost livable again.

Draco walked past his inviting bed to his en suite. He walked into it and started the hot water in the large, round tub and quickly undressed. He flicked his wand and locked the door so he wouldn't be disturbed. He looked at himself in the mirror over the sink.

He didn't like what he saw. There were blue and purple bags under his eyes and he looked too skinny. He had lost all of the muscle he gained from playing Quidditch. His white blond hair was limp and dirty and longer than he ever wore it. The jagged scar he got from Potter in sixth year seemed more pronounced on his boney chest. He was a mess. He turned away from the mirror, not wanting to see his deteriorated state any longer and stepped into the bath.

The moment his skin touched the warm water, he felt himself relax. His slid into the water until it reached his chin. He closed his eyes and let his mind shut down and just enjoyed the feel of the warm water on his skin. This is what he was looking forward to, relaxing. He hadn't been able to relax since fourth year. That was a bloody long time to be constantly on guard.

He deserved this. But his mind couldn't be quiet for long. He realized once she got in his system that his body wouldn't rest until she was either permanently gone or if he gave into her. And he didn't know what he wanted at the moment. He felt guilty. He knew that their _relationship _wasn't going to be a walk in the park, none of them are, but theirs would be nothing but a mine field. And he was right.

And that's why he didn't try to find her after the war was over. It wasn't that he didn't want to go find her. That was the problem. He wanted to find her and kiss her in front of everyone now that it didn't matter what his parents thought about them. It was about what she may truly want. He knew in the real world that this thing between them may not work. He had a lot of work to do within himself as well as society. And she was a war hero and he was a former Death Eater. That wouldn't have been good for her. It may have done wonders for him and his family's reputation later, but he didn't want to make her succumb to that. He could see the headline of the _Daily Prophet _now, "Muggle-born savior and war heroine saves the Malfoys' arses". She was better than that, so he didn't go find her.

And she probably hated him. And he couldn't blame her. A part of him hated himself too. He knew he should have found her regardless and assured her that he wanted to be with her. She would either reject him or would accept him, but now he would never know. He had to let her go and he did. For once Draco Malfoy wasn't a selfish prick. How unslytherin-like of him.

The thing was, was that he didn't care. But he felt the guilt kick him in the ribs once again. He knew that she would be going to go find her parents soon and he had promised her that after the war he would be there to help her. And he had broken that promise. He told her he would disappoint her. He really did. And he had. He didn't understand why she would believe in him so much. It's the Gryffindor in him he had thought many times.

But it felt nice, to have someone believe in him. And she was the only one who truly believed in him. And not just because she thought he was destined to do something great for the "greater good". Even with all of his flaws she thought he was a good person. And that was going new to him. Usually if one thing was out of place, he was a failure, but not to her.

Draco was brought back to reality when there was a knock at his bathroom door.

"Draco?" His mother's voice called timidly from the other side of the door.

"Yes mother?" He said after he cleared his throat.

"When you're done, dinner will be ready and we're all going to have a talk."

Draco wanted to groan at the word talk. He didn't want to talk. He wanted a warm meal and to be left the hell alone. Why didn't they understand that?

"Okay," he answered after a moment.

He heard the click of his mother's heels as she left his room.

Draco sat up and slowly started to wash himself. He wasn't in a hurry. They could wait.

**~-O-~**

Draco was dressed and felt clean, finally, as he made his way down the grand staircase that wasn't that grand anymore and into the dining room. His father wasn't sitting at the head of the table as he usually was. He was sitting in the seat on the left next to the chair he would have normally taken before the war. Draco thought it odd that his father didn't want to reclaim his rightful chair, but he supposed he was still getting used to the idea that Voldermort wouldn't be taking the chair and breathing down his neck like the rest of them.

He took the chair opposite his mother and waited for this "talk". Their one remaining house elf that managed to escape before Voldermort could kill it was so happy to be serving them again that he made several courses. Draco wasn't particularly that hungry, but he would enjoy as much of it as he could before they started this terrible talk.

"Draco, we just wanted to talk about what's going to be happening to us soon," his father started.

Or not. He was not meant to enjoy his food after all.

"I'm sure we all know what's going to happen, father."

"And in the event of me being put in Azkaban, you know that you'll be the head of the household."

"I know that. I was in sixth year when you were in prison, remember?" He was in no mood for this. When would he ever get a break?

His father gave a curt nod and said nothing more.

Draco ate his soup in silence. He barely paid attention to the taste; just the fact that it was something that would fill his sickly-looking body was enough for him. His mind was off thinking about other things, normal things. He didn't want to think about his father's impending jail sentence or even _his_ possible jail sentence.

He thought back to fourth year before Voldermort was truly back. The night he saw Hermione for the first time all dolled up and different. She truly opened his eyes that night. He never looked at her _that_ way until the night of the Yule Ball. She was absolutely radiant.

And ever since that night, he had tried to deny himself that she did anything for him, but he was wrong. Dead wrong. She had clawed her way into his system. His ruthless attacks slowed down and he wasn't so mean to her, more so to her friends. And in fifth year, that's when he stopped denying that he wasn't attracted to her. It took a lot of time to convince her that he wasn't pulling her leg and was truly attracted to her. Of course it didn't come out that way. He was rather abrasive and kind of rude, but he knew no other way with her.

And she had seen through all of his bullshit and actually wanted to be with him. He still didn't understand it even now, but she did. She had wanted the person that made her life hell only just a year before. It was strange. He always thought that she was pulling his leg. That she would reveal that she was only with him to finally pull a joke on him, but he was wrong. And he should have known. Hermione Granger didn't have a malicious bone in her body.

Draco was brought back from his thoughts of her, always her, when his soup bowl disappeared and the next course appeared on his plate. His mother and father were not looking at each other nor were they talking. He knew that his mother was probably still angry with his father for all the shit he put her through and he couldn't blame her. He was angry at his father as well, but he didn't want to dwell on that right now.

Or ever.

When dinner was over, he excused himself from the table and headed back to his room. He shut and locked the door. He kicked off his shoes and threw off his clothes. He got under his duvet and pulled it to his chin like he was a small child. That's all he really wanted in that moment, to be a small child. No responsibly, no having to constantly think about what the next move needed to be, and especially no consequences to his actions.

Draco closed his eyes. As soon as they were shut he felt the tiredness from years of watching his back wash over him. He felt he could sleep for several months and still be tired. But he would take all the sleep he could get. Tomorrow was another day. Another day to start over. Another day to truly be free. But also another day without her.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>And voila! New Dramione story. I feel much better about this one. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed it! Reviews would be lovely!

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own anything. I merely borrow characters and twist them into random plots.


	2. Brink of Disaster

**Never Let this Go**

**Chapter Two**

**Brink of Disaster**

_I, I always could count on futures_

_that things would look up, and they look up_

_Why is it so hard to find balance?_

_Between living decent and the cold and real_

_Hey now, what is it you think you see?_

_My darling, now's the time to disagree_

* * *

><p>When Hermione landed in Melbourne, Australia, she almost couldn't believe that this was winter time for them. It was a breezy 62.6 degrees Fahrenheit, basically what she had left only a morning before. She had left London at 8 a.m. and was now standing (marveling) in Australia at 7 p.m. the next day. It felt strange being in another country as well as another time zone completely that was so far away from her friends.<p>

She exited the plane and headed straight to baggage claim. Australia felt like a different place completely, well it was, but it felt so new to her. She could see why her parents had thought it to be so interesting. She could see why they would want a house here. And they got their wish.

Standing downstairs watching the baggage carousel for her small black suitcase, Hermione couldn't help but feel nervous, yet excited. She was going to see her parents! The parents she had been so determined to save from any harm during the Second Wizarding War. And she had. They had been safe in a place they longed to be.

She had to compliment herself on her own handiwork. She had managed to keep them alive and without remembering anything about her in the process. Hermione knew their lack of memories about her was necessary, but nonetheless it still hurt. But it would all be rectified soon enough. She hoped so anyway.

Hermione spotted her black suitcase and made a grab for it. She pushed the button that elongated the strap that she could make it easier for herself to pull behind her. She walked to the escalator and patiently let it take her up to the main floor once again. Hermione went to exchange her Pounds for Australian currency. She then walked out of the automated doors and out into the setting Australian sun. It truly was breathtaking even if she had seen a setting sun hundreds or thousands of times in her life, but there was something about the one she was seeing now. Maybe because she was so close to finding her parents that it almost seemed a tad more special than any other sunset she's seen before.

Hermione saw several taxis sitting outside of the _Melbourne International Airport_. Hermione had called and made arrangements ahead of time to the hotel she was staying at. The _Holiday Inn _was only four minutes away from the airport. It was quite convenient for when she was going to leave, but with her parents. She was giddy with excitement at the prospect.

When she arrived at her hotel—which took only two minutes with the way the cab driver drove—she couldn't help but marvel at the geniality of it. Muggle London was nice, but she was starting to really warm up to Australia. She paid the driver and headed inside the hotel. It was even better on the inside. She thought she looked very tourist-like as she gawked and looked around the hotel. It was very clean and modern styled. She walked up to the desk and a kindly-looking young woman around her age smiled at her.

"Hello Miss. Do you have a reservation?" Monica, as Hermione read her name tag, said. Hermione automatically liked the girl. Possibly because she was so nice and her mother's current fake name is Monica.

"Yes, I do. My name's Hermione Granger."

Monica started typing away on her computer for a few moments.

"Here we are. One single bed with a balcony that faces the city, right?"

Hermione nodded her head once.

"And you'll be staying for how many days, miss?"

"I don't quite know yet. I can pay for a week and if I need to stay longer can I pay you when the week's up?"

"Of course. Let me place this information in the system. That'll be $230," she said with a cheery smile.

Hermione grabbed her wallet from her purse and handed over the money to Monica.

"Will you need one key or two?"

"One."

Monica nodded and handed over one plastic key. "Do you help with your luggage?"

"No. I only have one little bag," Hermione said with a smile.

"All right. Your room number is 605. Have a great stay," Monica told her.

Hermione couldn't speak. 605. _605!_ How very ironic her life had become. He seemed to rear his ugly head when she didn't want to think about him. She gave Monica her best attempt at a smile and headed for the elevators.

She headed to her room and was surprised by the vastness of it even if it just held a single bed and a bathroom. She plopped down on the bed and decided to order room service and stay in. She was going to read over the books she brought with her on the trip to read over what she needed to do to wipe the false memories from her parents' minds and get them back. She'll go searching for them bright and early in the morning.

**~-O-~**

Hermione remembered the next morning that she promised the Weasleys that she would write them when she got to Australia. She completely forgot. Before she went to go search for her parents she would stop into the wizard part of Australia and send them a quick owl.

Wizarding Australia was extremely different from Diagon Alley and Wizarding France. It was like its own sub-country. Hermione wanted to check it out more, but she was on a mission. She would have time to come back and look around. She was glad it was only a short walk from her hotel. How convenient.

Hermione found the Owl Post easily enough. The old woman that ran the shop smiled at her. Hermione picked one of the fastest owls and wrote a quite letter ("I've made it. I'm sorry I didn't write early! I was completely knackered. I'm going to find them today. I'll write you all when I know more. Love you all and hope you're doing well! –Hermione") and sent the owl off. Hermione walked to the counter and paid for using the owl and left. She gave Wizarding Australia one last look before she went back through the barrier and back to the Muggle world.

Hermione needed a computer first. She had asked the person at the desk, who was not Monica, if there was a café around. James, she read his nametag finally, suggested to go to _Lux Bites_. It was about a half hour away from the hotel, but their macaroons were delicious. Hermione thanked him and asked if he could call her a cab.

While she waited for her cab to arrive she used the computer located on the first floor to search for any and all Monica and Wendell Wilkins. She wasn't surprised that it wasn't a common name. There were only two matches. She printed off the paper and headed out of the hotel into a slight overcast sky, but it was still warm. A silver Ford Falcon was sitting outside the hotel waiting on her. She got in the backseat and told the driver she was heading to _Lux Bites_.

The whole time she looked over the two names. One of the two could be her parents. It was almost unreal that she would get to see them again. When she arrived at the café, she paid the driver and headed inside. The café was extremely nice when Hermione walked in. It had a skylight with a chandler hanging from the ceiling. It was white and clean looking. As she made her way to the counter, her eyes immediately caught the different colors of the macaroons. She couldn't help but stare at them. They all looked delicious.

Hermione was greeted by someone behind the counter.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"Everything looks so delicious. What do you suggest?"

"Heilala Vanilla Creme Brulee macaroon is my favorite by far."

"I'll have that then and the Belgian Mint Tea."

He grabbed her macaroon and made her tea. Hermione paid for her breakfast and sat down at one of the two-person tables. The macaroons were completely delicious. She would have to thank James once again for telling her about this place. As she drank her tea, she looked over the list. The closest M. Wilkins was only four minutes from her current location. She could easily walk there.

Hermione felt the same nervousness with a mix of giddiness wash over her as she left the café. She knew she mustn't get her hopes up for the mere fact that this person may not be her mother, but she couldn't help it. St. Kilda Road was very nice. People were roaming around and heading in and out of the shops. Hermione took everything in with wide eyes. When she reached the correct address, she noticed it was an apartment building.

When her parents were talking about moving to Australia, they talked about moving into a house. So she didn't feel that this was a place where her parents would live, but she had to make sure before she tried the only other possible match. Hermione took a few deep breaths to calm her nerves. She raised her right arm to knock when the door opened before she could.

A tall man with curly brown hair looked as shocked as Hermione felt.

"Hello," he said a bit unsure.

"Erm, hi," Hermione said feeling awkward. She could feel her cheeks flame.

"May I help you?" He asked politely as he closed the door behind him.

"Oh, um, no. I got the wrong address. I was looking for the other Wilkins. I'm sorry to have bothered you," Hermione said giving him an apologetic smile.

"It's all right. It happens all the time. I've actually met them. They're quite a nice couple. They only live a few streets away actually. Do you want me to drop you off there? I was heading that way anyway."

Hermione looked at the man. He had to be at least ten years older than she was, but he seemed kind enough and it was only a few minutes ride. And he had said couple, meaning this could really be them. Hermione accepted and they headed down to the parking garage and got in his car.

"I'm Malcolm by the way and you are?"

Hermione felt silly for not introducing herself to a complete stranger that she was going to question just a moment ago. "I'm Hermione."

"You're English! On vacation?"

"Mhmm. I came to visit some relatives."

Malcolm stopped at the dead end of Tivoli Place and Hermione got out of the car. "Thank you," she told him politely.

"Of course. I hope you have a great time here."

Hermione gave him a smile and he turned around in someone's driveway and drove back down the street. Hermione took out the paper that had the addresses on them and looked for the house that her parents owned.

She found it right away. It was white, one-story with a short stone fence around it. Her parents were never one for lavish things. They liked to keep things simple and that's where Hermione had got her love for simplicity from. She walked up the short driveway and up the steps to the front door. She did the same breathing exercise that she did at Malcolm Wilkins' apartment. She held up her hand to knock and hesitated. She didn't know what to expect from them and it was quite frightening.

Before she could talk herself out of going through with her plan, she knocked three times loudly and rapidly. She waited with bated breath. When she thought that no one was home, the door opened. Hermione's heart leapt to her throat. A woman that looked very much like her mother was standing in the doorway peering at her.

It took all of Hermione's will not to rush over to the woman and give her a Molly Weasley hug. So she stood there stock still and at a loss for words (for once). Monica Wilkins stared at the girl on her porch for a moment.

"Hello, how may I help you?"

"H-hi. I'm Hermione Granger and I-I'm a distant cousin of yours. And I've been globetrotting trying to find some of my family. I'm sure you probably haven't heard of me before and I'm a complete stranger to you, but I was wondering if we could talk." Hermione had rehearsed this little speech over and over again before she went to bed and as she got ready that morning.

Her mother, with her familiar green eyes and wavy dark brown hair was almost enough to make her cry, looked her over for a few moments before she spoke. "What side of the family are you from?"

"From Wendell's side. I'm his uncle's daughter's cousin's daughter," Hermione said the mouthful in a rush. She wasn't really lying. Her father's uncle's daughter's cousin did have a daughter, but they didn't really know their real family so it didn't hurt them at all.

"I think I have heard of you. Come in," Monica smiled at her.

Hermione felt relieved and headed inside. Now to gain their trust.

* * *

><p>The trial came faster than Draco anticipated. He only got to experience two extremely short weeks of freedom before the Ministry owl came and left a bitter taste in Draco's mouth. His father was his usual self, strong and indifferent. Draco knew differently.<p>

The night before the trial he was roaming around the Manor at night—a new pastime of his now that he couldn't sleep for more than four hours at a time—when he heard his father muttering to himself. Loud noises came from inside his study. Draco knew that he was upset about going to court, but he knew that was coming. It was no surprise. Draco pressed his ear against the heavy wooden door and listened. His father was cursing and throwing things. He knew that he was father had been drinking. He only got extremely violent when he was drunk. Draco listened at the door until it got quiet. That's when he heard his father's anguished sobs.

He had never seen nor heard his father cry, ever. Draco was almost certain the man didn't have any until that night. It was hard to hear his father cry. The man he had idolized for years was more broken than one man should be. Yes, he had done despicable things over the course of his lifetime that Draco was sure would come out in court very soon. In one day Draco was sure his father would be sentenced to some jail time. And everything would fall on his shoulders.

Again, he would never get any peace then. He walked away from the door and continued his trek back to his room. He had had enough wandering for the night. He laid back in his bed and looked up at the high vaulted ceilings.

He had to mentally prepare himself in a day to get ready for this trial. One day and then his life will be in utter shit once again. Draco rolled to his side and closed his eyes. He knew that he wouldn't get much or any sleep, but he'd let his mind wander just this once. Let himself think of her for awhile, just to relax him until he was thrown feet first into everything.

His mind wandered to their sixth year. She knew that he was hiding something from her and he knew that she was hiding something from him. They had an unspoken promise not to talk about either topic, but Draco had a bad feeling about whatever she was going to do. He had to comfort her about it.

_They were sitting in the astronomy tower together late at night. They shared a comfortable silence together, but he soon broke it._

"_What is it that you have to do?" He asked abruptly._

"_You know that I can't tell you, Draco."_

"_I just feel that something's going to happen and—"_

"_You and I both agreed not to say anything about what either of us has to do. And I would like to—"_

"—_that something's going to happen to you and I don't like that, Granger. I really—"_

"—_keep it that way. I haven't asked you what you have to do and I'd appreciate the same right to privacy."_

"—_don't like it."_

_They were both breathing quickly when they stopped talking over the other. They caught their breath and continued to stare at one another. _

"_Draco, I know what I have to do is dangerous and I can't promise you that I'll be safe, but I can at least promise you that I'll try my hardest to…survive."_

_He thought her wording was very well thought out. She apparently had been thinking about this for a while now. The thought of something happening to her made his insides squirm. Part of him knew what she was going to do and he really didn't like it, but there was nothing he could do about it. And the other part of him knew that once he went through with his mission, she'd want nothing to do with him and it made his insides squirm even more._

"_Let's run off," he blurted out._

_Her brow furrowed as she looked at him. "I couldn't do that."_

"_I know, but…I just—I just don't want the war to happen. And we're on opposite sides…"_

"_We are publically, but you don't want to fight for Voldermort. I know you don't. If you did, you wouldn't be sitting here with me."_

_He knew what she said was true. He wanted nothing to do with this mission or Voldermort, but he had no choice. And she would hate him._

"_I love you, Hermione," Draco said quietly. He didn't look at her. He was afraid to see her reaction. He had been thinking about the phrase for weeks now and it seemed like the right time to finally say it before everything became messy. The three word phrase boggled his mind. Their relationship was never supposed to be like this, but somehow she snuck up on him._

"_Do you really?" She asked just as quietly as he stated his confession._

"_I do." There was no going back now._

_She shifted closer to him and lifted his chin with two fingers. Her eyes were swimming in tears. "I've wanted to tell you for weeks, but I didn't want to scare you away. I love you," she whispered._

_Draco's lips crashed into hers. They instantly melded together. Draco wished in that moment that this could be their forever, but reality sunk in._

Draco was being shaken awake. He peeled an eye open and saw his mother standing over him. He must have fallen asleep after all.

"Time to get up. I laid your best robes out and breakfast will be ready when you get downstairs."

Draco nodded and looked at his mother; her blue eyes were a bit red. He didn't know if it was from crying, lack of sleep, or both. He could only imagine what she was going through right now. Draco stood up and wrapped his arms around his mother. She wrapped hers around his waist. They stayed that way for a moment until she pushed back and gave him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She left him to get ready for the morning.

He came down in his fitted black robes and sat down at the table. His mother was looking at his father; she hadn't touched her food at all. His father was eating his breakfast as he always did. He was reading the paper as he usually did. He seemed to so at ease, but Draco knew better from the night before.

Draco kept his eyes down and ate bits of his breakfast. The Floo lit up and Draco looked up to see Arthur Weasley's redhead poking through.

"Ready Lucius?"

"Not even going to give me a 'good morning'? But yes, I am ready. Thank you for asking," Lucius said in his usual drawl.

Arthur stepped through the fireplace and stood in the dining room. Lucius stood, head held high, and walked over to Arthur.

"Hands at your sides so I can check you over," Arthur said. Lucius complied and Arthur took out his wand and checked Lucius over. Once he found nothing and took his wand, he placed shackles on his hands. "Time to go."

Neither Draco nor Narcissa said anything as Lucius walked to the Floo and disappeared a moment later with Arthur right behind him.

"We should leave as well. We'll have to go through the visitor's entrance," Narcissa said.

Draco nodded and got up silently. He and his mother headed outside beyond the wards of the Manor and apparated to London. Once inside the Ministry, they got their badges and headed down to Level Two – Department of Magical Law Enforcement. They walked into the Wizengamot and took a seat in the front of Lucius's side.

He was already sitting there, his back ramrod straight with his hands folded in front of him. The members of the Wizengamot filed in one after the other. Draco recognized several faces as they came in, mainly Kingsley Shacklebolt, Arthur Weasley and Percy Weasley. Kingsley took his seat as the Chief Warlock.

"Today we are proceeding over the trail of Lucius Malfoy," he said in his deep voice. "The charges are being a Lord Voldermort extremist, murder, and plotting against the Ministry of Magic. How does the defendant plead?"

"Guilty," Lucius' voice said loud and clear.

The clerk's quill glided over the paper easily as it recorded the conversation.

"Tell me, Mr. Malfoy, do you believe everything you did was necessary?"

"It was necessary to keep myself and my family alive," he said without a waver in his voice.

"But would you say that keeping your family under Voldermort's thumb has done more harm than good for your family?"

"We're alive, a little worse for wear, but nonetheless alive."

"So you agree that going along with Lord Voldermort's plans were worth it?"

"Not completely. I will admit, I do regret being in his inner circle, but by being in his inner circle I knew what would be happening, what I needed to do to keep my family safe. And that's why I stayed."

"Yes, but didn't Voldermort call on Draco to murder Albus Dumbledore?"

"Yes," Lucius replied curtly.

"And how did you feel about that?"

"I didn't like it, naturally, but I had to encourage my son to make the _right_ choice so that he didn't get killed."

"Did you encourage him for _his_ sake or _yours_?"

"For his! I had already fallen from the Lord's good graces. He's already had to grow up with all the shit I dished out because of Voldermort's threats, but I didn't want that for him. I thought if he did what he asked then he could ultimately save himself from this."

"And how did you think he would save himself from Voldermort?"

"I knew deep down that Draco didn't want to have anything to do with Voldermort. He already saw me suffer through it and he didn't want to go down the same path. He thought he did when he was a young boy, but he didn't more and more as he got older. I thought that if Draco followed Voldermort's orders, then he would be able to get away with a lot more than I did and eventually become so powerful that he could leave and Voldermort would never find him again."

Draco was shocked with what his father had said. He thought he had a chance to actually pull the wool over Voldermort's red, snake-like eyes and leave. He would never have done it. He would never have abandoned his family. He had said to Hermione that they should run off together and leave the war behind, but he knew that they would never do it.

But he didn't know if his father was telling the truth or not. His confession sounded sincere, but was he? Was Lucius Malfoy: liar extraordinaire, capable of telling the truth? Draco didn't know and that was sad. He had no idea if his father was capable of telling the truth or not.

"Very well. We'd like to call Harry Potter to the stand," Kingsley said.

Draco's head whipped around as he looked for Potter. He didn't see him when he entered the room. And why was he here? Was he here to condemn his father even more? That had to be the only option. He certainly couldn't be here to actually help, but with Potter you never knew what would happen. So Draco sat there and waited.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Thank you to everyone who reviewed and favorite and alerted! I'm glad you enjoyed the first chapter. All of these places and streets are real. I looked them all up using Google. Look up Lux Bites. Everything looks delicious! And there actually is a M. Wilkins in Melbourne. Interesting. Oh yes, as for the timeline between Hermione and Draco, things are happening simultaneously. When Draco returned to the Manor, his timeline was behind Hermione's by a few days, but now he's caught up. Review?

**Yvonne:** You spelled everything correctly and thank you!

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own anything. I merely borrow characters and twist them into random plots that my head supplies me with.


	3. Second Chances

**Chapter Three**

**Second Chances**

_I, I  
>It's a fraction of the hope but it's hard to control and<br>I, I get this strain.  
><em>

* * *

><p>Walking into the Wilkins' home felt strange. She was a stranger to them, but they weren't a stranger to her. Well, that may be a lie. She didn't know the Wilkins, she knew the Grangers. Monica walked into the bright yellow living room and sat down upon one of the sofas. Hermione sat down on the sofa opposite her mother.<p>

"Would you like some tea, Hermione?" Monica asked pleasantly.

"No thanks. I had some at a café just a few streets away."

Monica smiled and nodded. "Very well. Wendell won't be home for a few hours, but if you'd like to join us for dinner you can."

"I'd like that very much," Hermione said as she smiled at her.

"Great, so tell me more about yourself."

"Well, I'm currently on vacation, but when I go back in a few weeks I'm going to finish my last year of school."

"Oh? Are you in high school or college, dear?"

Hermione thought quickly. What could Hogwarts be compared to Muggle school? "College," she said finally.

"How wonderful! What are you studying?"

"Social work," she said quickly.

"That's great!"

"Thank you! What do you and Wendell do? If you don't mind me asking, that is."

"Not at all, we're both dentists."

Hermione smiled to herself. Her parents were still dentists. It was as if nothing had changed. And maybe they really hadn't. Maybe they were the same exact people that she had grown up to know and love, but they just didn't remember her and didn't have the same name. Maybe this would be easier than she thought it would be.

The two of them talked about anything and everything and Hermione truly felt like she was talking to her mother like she used to every summer. The door opened and in walked in her father. He looked at when he heard another voice in the room.

"Hello," he greeted Hermione as he walked over to his wife and kissed her on the cheek.

"Hello," Hermione said shyly.

"This is Hermione Granger. She's a relative of yours and she wanted to get to know us better."

"Oh brilliant! I hate to ask, but whose daughter are you?" He asked kindly.

"I'm your Cousin Clara's daughter. She's your Uncle Joseph's cousin Elena's daughter. I know it's a lot to take in, sorry," Hermione said nibbling on her lip.

Her father seemed to think about all of this for a moment and then nodded his head in affirmation. "How is your mum and grandmum?"

"They're fine and they told me to send you their love. They wanted to come as well, but grandma is getting up there and mum couldn't get off of work."

"What a shame."

Hermione nodded. It felt surreal to be sitting in front of her parents and having a normal conversation. He just looked them over. They looked happy.

"Are you staying for dinner, dear?" Her father asked.

"I am actually."

"Brilliant. I'm just going to pop upstairs and get out of my work clothes and you can help us cook," he said before he disappeared up the stairs.

When he came back the three of them headed into the kitchen. He wasn't kidding when he said she would help them cook. Nostalgia was threatening to bowl Hermione over. It was like old times. The three of them had been cooking together ever since she was five. And blinked back her tears and enjoyed the present.

Dinner and the conversation were lovely. Hermione hadn't felt that happy in a long time, except when she was with Draco, but she didn't want to dwell on that when she was with her parents.

After cleaning up, they called a cab for Hermione and she bade them goodnight. A smile on her face the whole time it took her to get back to the hotel. She waved at Monica when she got back inside the hotel and headed to her room. She showered and snuggled down in her comfy bed. She took out the book that had the spell to reverse her parents' memories and read through it again.

She would go back to visit in a few days (she also wanted to visit that café again) and hopefully reverse their memories. Hermione closed the book after she had the chapter memorized. She turned off the light and closed her eyes. She'd owl Harry about everything in the morning.

**~-O-~**

She had forgotten. She couldn't believe that she had forgotten, but she could see why she had. She knew that there would be a trial, but she didn't think about it. She wanted to be there. She wanted to show her support even if he didn't want to be anything to her anymore.

Hermione didn't want to do it to make him feel guilty. She just wanted him to know that someone was there. And it wasn't she who was there for him. Ironically it was Harry, his sworn enemy. Hermione almost wanted to cry as she re-read Harry's words to her. He had been there for Draco when she couldn't.

But she couldn't beat herself up about it. She was doing something that was extremely important to her. She was trying to get her parents back. Surely—if he still cared—Draco would know that. He was supposed to come with her when everything was over, but that obviously didn't happen. Things change, but Hermione still wanted him to know that he could still rely on her no matter what.

As she stood in the Owlery, she had the strongest urge to write him. Just to let him know that she hadn't given up on him despite everything. But she stopped herself. She was sure he didn't want to hear from her. Hermione bit her bottom lip and wrote to Harry instead. Her mood from the night before was a bit subdued due to the nature of his letter, but she didn't let it show.

_Harry:_

_I'm proud of you for going to the trial and for putting aside your differences and speaking on Narcissa and Draco's behalf. It's understandably so since Narcissa did such an honorable thing for you. You always amaze me, Harry._

_It's ironic because I was going to write you and you beat me to the punch! But I saw my parents last night! It was great. I told a little white lie to get close to them. Don't you dare shake your head and smile at my Harry James Potter! I had to or I would never have got a chance to speak to them. _

_But they're lovely! They act the same. I'm just so happy that I finally got to see how they were doing. They look so happy. I just hope they won't be angry with me because I tried to protect them. I just hope they understand. _

_Anyway, I'm going to see them again in a few days and hopefully reverse everything. And then hopefully I'll be home soon. I miss you and the Weasleys. Send them my love!_

_~ Hermione _

Hermione attached the letter to the same owl that took her letter to England before. She paid and left the shop. She decided to explore Wizarding Australia. It was different from Diagon Alley, but she liked it. Hermione just liked learning about new things and learning about Wizarding Australia was something to add to her list.

She spent hours looking through the shops and buying things for everyone at home. She bought a few books for herself that she could read on her downtime when she went back to Hogwarts. Her good mood from the day previous was restored as she left and went back to her hotel. In a few days time she would be back to see her parents and hopefully get them back for good.

**~-O-~**

Hermione knocked on the door of her parents' home. Wendell opened the door and gave her a cheerful smile.

"We were wondering when we'd see you again," he said as he let her in the house.

Hermione smiled. "Really? I didn't want to intrude or anything."

"Of course you aren't. You're family; it's your natural right."

Hermione laughed. Her dad had always been funny and she was glad nothing had changed.

"Where's Monica?"

"Oh, she's outside in the garden. I'll tell her you're here."

"Good, I need to talk to you both."

Wendell and Monica came back inside and sat down on the couch together. "What did you have to tell us, dear?" Monica asked.

Hermione felt the now familiar nauseous feeling she got whenever she was nervous. She pulled her wand from her purse. The Wilkins looked at her with wide eyes.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly before she cast the spell.

Hermione watched as their eyes were blank and wide. She could see the spell working and she held her breath until it was over and then she waited. They finally moved and blinked their eyes a few times. They looked at one another and then at Hermione.

"Mum? Dad?" She said uncertain if they were truly back.

"Hermione? What, what happened?" Her father asked.

"I have a lot to explain," she said sinking down in the nearest chair to her.

They both sat up straighter and waited for her to talk.

She took a deep breath and let it out quickly. "Ok. There was a war in the Wizarding world, as you sort of knew about. It finally broke out into a full war last year. I had to protect you both. I'm friends with Harry and he was a target to Lord Voldermort. I didn't want you two to die because of me so I replaced your memories and you both moved here."

"Where were you?" Her mother asked.

"I was in hiding with Harry and Ron trying to figure out a way to kill Voldermort. "

"And we didn't remember you all this time?" Michael asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No. I had to make sure that I never existed to you two just in case Voldermort tracked you down and tried to find out where I was. I couldn't take that chance. And you two had talked about Australia and how you thought it was lovely, so I thought why not."

"I-I can't quite wrap my head around this. You hide us while you were out in the midst of a war?" Jean asked.

"I had to help Harry. I couldn't just let him go off and try to defeat Voldermort alone."

"But you could have been killed!"

"I could have and I almost was, but I'm here. I'm alive. Everything's fine. I just hope you aren't angry with me," she stated as she looked at them again.

"Angry with you? Can you blame us? Our daughter used magic on us without our consent. And then she went off and could have been killed and we would have been none the wiser," Jean Granger said as she tearfully looked at her daughter.

"I know and I'm sorry! But I wanted to keep you both safe!" Hermione said, her voice growing louder and tears started to form in her eyes.

"And we understand that, Hermione, but you also have to understand that what you did hurt us as well. If you talked to us about this before you acted, then maybe it would have gone better," Michael said calmly.

"But you wouldn't have let me go! I needed to go."

"And you're right. We probably wouldn't have let you go, but I would have felt better if you had talked to us about this. I know you would have done it anyway. You're too determined for your own good sometimes," he said giving her a smile.

Hermione smiled back at him, but disappeared. "I was panicking and I had to get you both to safety. I'm sorry."

"It'll be all right, Hermione, but if there is ever a next time you need to talk to us first, okay?"

Hermione nodded and stood from the chair and walked over to them. She threw an arm around her mother and father's necks and hugged them. She had missed them and they were finally back. Hermione had some semblance of peace in her life.

* * *

><p>To see Potter at his father's trial was like staring at a unicorn for far too long, it was blinding and surreal. Potter took the stand and Draco sat forward in his seat.<p>

"Mr. Potter," Kingsley's deep voice boomed from his seat. "How is your relationship with the Malfoy family?"

Harry fidgeted in his seat for a moment. "We've never been on good terms. In my first year, Draco offered me his friendship, but I didn't accept."

"And why is that, Mr. Potter?"

"I heard about what his family was like and I knew enough at the time that he wouldn't be a very good friend."

"Why are you here today?"

"To give all the evidence I can to help the Malfoys."

"And why do you want to help them if your relationship with them is anything but spectacular? You have no obligation towards them."

"Actually Mrs. Malfoy helped me to defeat the Dark Lord. She lied to him in exchange for information about Draco."

Draco looked at his mother, the woman who was sitting up tall with her chin held high. He didn't know that she had lied to Voldermort in exchange for information about him. It was almost unreal. He knew that his mother was strong. She had to put up with his father's shit since they were in Hogwarts, she had to be. But lying to someone that could have killed her without batting an eye took a lot of courage. A new respect for his mother instantly bloomed within him.

Draco turned his attention back to Potter.

"What exactly happened?"

"Voldermort had just cast the Killing Curse on me. I suppose I did _die_, but part of me was a Horcrux. Neither Voldermort nor I knew that at the time. So when I came back, he told Mrs. Malfoy to check on me. She found out I was alive and inquired about Draco to see if he was alive or not. I told her he was and she turned back to Voldermort and told him that I was dead."

The small crowd in the room murmured as they listened to what Harry had said. Draco was intrigued.

"And how did you know Draco was alive?" Kingsley asked.

"I saw him earlier that night. Hermione, Ron, and I were in the Room of Requirement looking for another Horcrux of Voldermort's when Draco, Crabbe, and Goyle ambushed us. Crabbe cast Fiendfyre and it started to destroy the Room. Malfoy, Goyle, Hermione, Ron, and I all escaped, Crabbe wasn't so lucky."

"Draco's intentions weren't very honorable at that moment?"

"No, but I knew he never had his heart in what he was supposed to do."

"And how do you know that Mr. Potter?"

"Erm—I spied on Draco a lot during our sixth year and I overheard his conversations with Snape. He never wanted the Mark. He never wanted to kill Dumbledore. He never wanted to do any of it. He just wanted to protect his family. He lied to his Aunt Bellatrix when Fenrir brought us to the Manor."

"What did he lie about?"

"My identity."

Kingsley nodded. "And what about Lucius Malfoy?"

"What about him?"

"Did he do anything that would help his case?"

Potter looked at Lucius for a few minutes before he spoke. "Lucius Malfoy is a vile man, yes, but he was trying to help his family in the end. I'm not saying his course of action was warranted, but it was for one sole purpose."

"Is that all Mr. Potter?"

Harry nodded.

"You may step down."

Harry stepped down and walked back to his seat. Draco turned his head to look at Harry. A silent conversation between the two seemed to happen. Draco nodded in thanks for telling the truth about his family. Harry nodded back and stared at him for a little longer. It seemed that he was trying to tell him something, but Draco didn't understand. The look unnerved him, but he turned around anyway.

"I now call Draco Malfoy to the stand."

Draco's eyes widened before he smoothed his features into his usual mask of indifference before he smoothed down his robes and sat down on the stand.

"Draco, why did you ambush Mr. Potter during the battle?"

"I thought if I turned him in, my family could finally be safe. I could correct my failure from sixth year."

"And did you believe in Voldermort's side at the time?"

"I just wanted my family to be safe."

"You didn't answer the question."

"No, I suppose I didn't believe in Voldermort's bullocks war."

"Very well. Do you resent your father for getting involved with Voldermort?"

Draco sat there for a moment. He looked at his father, who looked back at him. The man still looked gaunt with dark purple bags under his eyes. His usual impeccable white blond hair, the very shade of Draco's, was limp and lank. He needed a good scrubbing. His jaw sported stubble. Draco had never seen his father look so _bad_.

Draco looked away and down at his folded hands. "I suppose I do, in a way. If he hadn't decided to join Voldermort then we may not have been in this mess. But…but I know that he had no choice. If he didn't join, our family would have shunned him. He may not have been able to marry mother. And he grew up believing the very things that Voldermort stood for. He knew nothing else."

"But you grew up the very same way he did, believing what Voldermort said was true, but you changed your opinion it seems."

"The truth is that I didn't want to be like my father. After seeing what being a Death Eater was like, I knew that I couldn't put myself through that or my family. So I started seeing things differently. It didn't happen all at once, but little by little. I never had the gall to kill anyone. So when Voldermort assigned me the 'honor' of killing Dumbledore, I knew from the start I couldn't do it. Even when I got the Mark, it never properly healed. It still isn't. I didn't want this."

Draco didn't like speaking his mind, but he knew that if he didn't there was no hope for him. So he just let the truth set him free.

"All right Draco, you may step down."

Draco quickly walked back to his seat, glad the spotlight wasn't on him any longer.

Kingsley stood and so did the rest of the Wizengamot. "We will deliberate over the memories and the statements we got today. We will reveal the verdict tomorrow."

Everyone stood as they left the room. Draco felt the anxiousness settle back into his stomach. It felt like lead. Draco watched as his mother hugged his father and kiss his cheek, whispering something in his ear before the guards took him away. He caught Draco's eye before they took him completely away. Draco stood there defiantly as his father stared at him. He didn't look anger that he had spoken against him. Draco was surprised.

But he didn't care. He was going to stick to what he said—the truth. Granger had been right. The truth did set him free. He felt light in a way. He had spoken his mind after years of his father telling him to keep his thoughts to himself. He had changed. And he supposed part of it was because of her.

He wished she had been there today. He could have used some sort of support. But he didn't expect her to be there. He had given her the cold shoulder, why would she want to be there to support him? He mentally shook his head. He couldn't let his mind continue to drift to her.

Draco saw Potter start to leave the room. Draco told his mother he'd be right back. He walked quickly after Potter.

"Potter!" He called.

Potter stopped and turned around. Draco stopped a few feet in front of him. They stared at each other for awhile until Draco spoke.

"Um, thanks for that."

Harry nodded. "I didn't do it for you."

"I know, I know. You did it for my mother."

"Not only for her, but for Hermione too."

Draco was stunned. Had she told him about them?

"What are you talking about, Potter?" Draco asked sternly.

"Malfoy, I know about you and Hermione. I'm not blind. She never told me, but I've seen things."

Draco felt slightly light-headed. He knew about him and Granger. He made sure they were so careful.

Harry must have noticed the look on his face. "I have a map that oversees the whole castle. I saw you two together."

"H-have you spoken to her about this?" He felt himself pale.

"No. She's not even in the country."

Draco wanted to ask where she was, but he knew that wasn't any of his business. He could guess where she was—Australia to get her parents.

"She's in Australia," Potter said as if he guessed his thoughts.

Draco nodded. "H-how is she?"

"She's okay. She seemed a bit down, but she didn't want to tell me about it. I'm sure it was about you. What happened between the two of you?"

Draco didn't even want to think about this nonetheless talk about it with _Harry Potter_. He sighed.

"I let her go."

Harry searched his face. "Why?"

"Do you realize how difficult it would be for her if she was attached to me?"

"But you know Hermione, she wants what she wants and if she's determined enough she'll do anything in her power to keep it. And if she was willing to keep you around Malfoy, then you should have let her decide that. You know she hates when people decide for her. She never got a choice and you took it away at the first sign of difficulty."

Draco looked at him. He never really thought about that. He thought that if Hermione continued to stay with him he would ultimately ruin her life. And he didn't want her to regret being with him. So he let her go.

"But I have to go. I'll be back tomorrow to hear the verdict," Harry said before he turned around and walked away from a dumbfounded Draco.

**~-O-~**

The next morning, Draco sat in the same spot he had the day before, his mother next to him. Potter was sitting in the back.

Kingsley sat in his majestic purple robes in the front row above them.

"We are here to give the verdict on Lucius Malfoy today as well as Narcissa and Draco Malfoy," his deep voice rumbled.

Draco felt himself sit up straighter in his seat. He saw his father do the same.

"We, of the Wizengamot, find Lucius Malfoy guilty."

The verdict didn't surprise Draco in the least. He knew his father would be guilty.

"He will be serving a maximum of 10-15 years. And as for Narcissa and Draco Malfoy, cleared of any of their charges, but Draco Malfoy will have to wear a tracing anklet for a year for probation purposes."

Draco's shoulders slumped. It could have been worse. His father will be gone for a decade or more. It was surreal. But it could have been worse. He could have been sentenced to life or even the Kiss. His mother was crying beside him. He put a hand on her back in comfort. She stood up letting the hand that was comforting her drop and walked to her husband.

She embraced him and cried on his shoulder. Draco turned his head away from the private moment. He didn't want to intrude nor did he want to see it. Draco felt his mother walk over to him.

"Go say goodbye to your father."

Draco gave her a look, but walked over to the man who had sired him.

"Take care of your mother, Draco."

"I will," he said in a clipped tone.

"And take care of yourself."

"I will," he answered in the same tone.

"And I am sorry about everything. I just wanted to protect you and your mother."

"I know, but you see where that got you."

Lucius sighed. "I love you Draco," he said as a guard came up to take him away.

Draco had never heard his father say anything remotely caring to him. It was strange. It was almost like he would never see him again. And part of him believed that. And he hoped it wasn't true.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's note: <strong>Hello! This would have been up last night, but was being ridiculous. Anyway, it's up now! And sorry it took a bit! Between school and having issues writing this, I finally sat down last night and finished it. Ok enough rambling! Hope you enjoyed the chapter! Reviews are nice, too!

*Fixed a few things


	4. How it Goes

**Chapter Four**

**How it Goes**

_I been having trouble making some decisions about the smallest changes in my life__  
><em>_But I haven't got the slightest bit of intuition helping me to figure out what's right__  
><em>_And I'll always be unhappy one way or the other_

* * *

><p>Hermione was heading home with her parents. The biggest smile adorned her face as they waited in the airport. Her parents were sitting opposite of her quietly talking to one another. She had sent Harry a letter two days previous to tell him she would be coming home very soon and that she would explain everything when she got back.<p>

Things had been a bit awkward and weird over the last few days, but they hashed everything out. Hermione told them the abridged version of what happened during the war. She watched their horrified faces as she recounted what happened at Malfoy Manor. Her mother was crying by the end, her father giving her comfort. She didn't mention her relationship with Draco at all. Hermione deemed it unnecessary since they were no longer together. It had been a long few days, but they were closer at the end of them.

They heard the announcement that they could start boarding their plane. Hermione stood and stretched and so did her parents. They boarded their flight and sat in the same row. Hermione didn't sit by the window this time. She sat securely in the middle of her parents. Her father chuckled knowingly. She sent him a stern look before she buried her nose in one of her books she brought along.

The twenty hour flight literally flew by. She slept most of it or read. Her father tapped her on her shoulder and told her to look out of the window. She could see the familiar business of London below. The smile she wore in Australia graced her lips once again. She was _home_.

After grabbing their luggage, they hailed a cab since Hermione couldn't disapparate with both of them and a few bags of luggage. Hermione looked out of the window as if she hadn't seen London in her life, but it just felt good to be home and to almost have her life back to normal. Harry had been right; she did need the week away from England.

Arriving at her childhood home with her parents made everything seem real. She paid the cab driver and they walked into their house. Hermione watched them as looked around their home once again. It had been awhile since they've laid eyes on the place. Hermione thought to leave them alone to reacquaint themselves whilst she unpacks.

Hermione promised herself that she would pop over to the Burrow to see everyone for a few hours. She told her parents the plan and they told her to be home by dinner. She supposed that parental duties don't wear off even if you're a war hero. But she wasn't complaining, she did miss their overprotective concerns.

She walked to her backyard and disapparated after she made sure no one was looking. The sun was just starting to set when she touched down on the dirt path from the Burrow. She had missed the mismatched house a great deal while she was gone. She walked purposely towards it, almost at a jog.

Hermione knocked on the door in quick, short bursts. She waited impatiently for someone to open the door. When it finally did, Molly's wide grin greeted her.

"Hermione! You're home! Come in, come in!" The woman said moving aside so Hermione could walk into the house.

"How was your trip? I hope your parents are settling in well."

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the woman who had come to be her second mother. "My trip went well and they are settling in quite well. I'm so happy to have them home."

"I'm glad, dear! Are you hungry?"

"No, no. Mum's cooking dinner, so I won't be able to stay long, but I'll be back tomorrow."

"All right dear. The boys and Ginny are in the backyard. They'll be so happy to see you," she beamed.

Hermione gave her a smile back and headed towards the backyard. She saw Harry, Ron, and Ginny sitting in the air on their brooms.

"Hey!" She called as she walked closer to their location.

All three of their heads whipped around at the sound. She waved her arms at them as they took off at high speeds towards her. Hermione instinctively crouched down and shrieked came rocketing towards her, but they stopped on a knut in front of her.

"Hermione, calm down. We weren't going to hit you," Ginny giggled.

Hermione stood up straight and looked at all three of their beaming faces. Ginny was the first to hug her and then Harry and finally Ron.

"I'm so happy you're back, 'Mione! You look excellent!" Ginny said hugging her again.

Hermione laughed. "I haven't been gone _that_ long!" It was true, she hadn't been gone that long in reality, but with everything that happened during the war she knew that a week felt like half a lifetime.

"It felt longer than a week," Ron butted in.

"Well, I'm glad to be back. I've missed you all. Oh! I bought you all something, but I forgot it at home, but no matter. I have to head home soon, but I'll be back tomorrow so I can tell you everything and you all can fill me in about what you've all been up to."

"You just got back though," Harry whined.

Hermione shook her head. "Mum and dad want to have dinner tonight. Plus, it is their first night back. You'll see me so much over the summer you'll get sick of me!"

"That would never happen!" Ginny said as Ron and Harry nodded in agreement.

Hermione smiled widely at them. "Thanks."

They talked about simple things, keeping the atmosphere light. Before Hermione knew it, two hours had passed. She said goodbye to them and the four of them hugged once again. Molly pulled her into her famous bone crushing hug before she left the Burrow. It felt good to be home.

**~-O-~**

The next day, she came back to the Burrow bright and early. Molly let her in once again. It came as no surprise that Ron, Harry, and Ginny weren't up yet. She had the pleasure of waking the three of them. A half hour later, the three of them descended the steps in grumbling, bed tousled hair.

"What time is it anyway?" Ron asked yawning loudly.

"It's 10 o'clock, Ronald," Hermione informed him as she took a seat at the table.

He groaned.

Harry and Ginny chuckled at the redhead's morning demeanor.

"It's not _that_ early, Ron," Harry said as he reached for a muffin.

"It is to me. It is summer after all and the war's over. I think I deserve to sleep in as long as I want."

"Aww poor Ickle Ronnie," Ginny mimicked Fred and George.

Ron shook his head and grabbed for a muffin as Harry did a moment before.

"I told you I'd be back in the morning," Hermione stated.

"And by morning, I thought you'd be back in the afternoon. You know, at a decent time."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Normal people do get up at this time."

Ron shook his head before he took a bite out of his muffin.

"Anyway, tell us about Australia," Ginny butted in before Hermione and Ron would say anything else.

Hermione told them all about Australia. She even gave them their gifts. Ron's mood improved at the mention of a gift. Hermione knew the boy was hopeless. He was like a 5-year-old stuck in a 19-year-old's body.

After Hermione was done recounting her adventure, she looked at Harry next. "Tell me about the trial."

Everyone was quiet at her request. Harry cleared his throat and sat up straight in his chair.

"I told you mostly everything in the letter I wrote you, well the most important bits. Lucius was sentenced to 10 -15 years, Narcissa got off scot free, and Draco was sentenced to wear a Tracing Anklet for a year. I don't really know if I helped the trial or not, but I knew I had to speak on their behalf."

"And I'm proud of you for doing the right thing," Hermione told him with a small smile on her face.

Harry gave her a nod in thanks.

The four of them were quiet for a bit after that.

"Oh! I got a letter from McGonagall! She told me that Hogwarts would be rebuilt by September and said that I could finish my last year. I'm going to accept. Are you three going back?"

"I am," Ginny said. "If I don't, mum and dad—especially mum—would hex me if I didn't. Especially since...Fred and George didn't finish."

"I don't think I'm going back. I just want to lay low for a bit. Maybe I'll go back eventually, but right now, no," Harry told her.

"I think I'm going to help George out in the shop, keep an eye on him for a bit. So probably not."

"Well, looks like it'll be just you and me Gin. When McGonagall sends out the list for the year, do you want to go shopping together?"

Ginny nodded. "Oh well, more fun without those two anyway."

"Hey!" Ron objected.

Hermione and Ginny laughed. "We're only joking Ron."

Ron still huffed and crossed his arms.

Harry clapped him on the back. "It'll be ok Ron. They'll be stuck in the castle writing essays and we'll be taking it easy. I think we'll be the ones who will be having more fun."

Ron perked up and then looked smug. "You're right. Have fun with that! Well, Hermione actually _will_ have fun writing essays and doing homework."

"It's not my fault that I take great pride in my work unlike some of us," she said looking his way.

"So how about we go do something, hm?" Harry suggested before Hermione and Ron could further their disagreement.

Hermione agreed. Their little spats reminded her of years at Hogwarts. She would miss those terribly since she and Ginny were the only ones going back. She would miss being around Harry and Ron in the common room late at night, them playing chess and she completing an essay.

**~-O-~**

Hermione received McGonagall's owl a few weeks later with the list for her seventh and final year. She was elated to have some semblance of normalcy in her life again. McGonagall also informed her that she didn't have to stay at Hogwarts. She could do independent study for all of her classes and sit the NEWTs when the other seventh years did. Hermione liked that plan much more than being in the castle. She knew it wouldn't feel the same and she wanted to remember it the way she had before the war fully broke out.

She could get a job and get her own flat. Probably a nice flat in Diagon Alley so that she wouldn't be too far from her parents and could find a job easily for her. And she'd get to see Ron and Harry more so that way. It was perfect.

She had owled Ginny an hour after she had read over the letter to ask if she would like to get their books that afternoon. Ginny accepted readily. Hermione then wrote McGonagall back and told her she would take her up on her offer of studying independently. Hermione felt it was going to be a great day. The sun was shiny, it wasn't too hot, and her life was slowly starting to get back on track.

Hermione met Ginny at the Leaky Cauldron. They set off into Diagon Alley together, laughing and discussing what Hogwarts would be like now.

"I'm not going back to the castle. McGonagall offered me to study independently and I thought that it would be a better idea than going back to the castle. I thought it would be great going back to Hogwarts, but it wouldn't be the same. I don't know if I could handle going back. I'm sorry."

"You're so lucky. I wish I could study independently as well, but I don't have nearly enough self-discipline like you do."

"Well, during hols or during a weekend you can always come visit me at my flat just to get away."

"You have a flat now?"

"No, not yet. I plan to get one soon though."

"We really are growing up, aren't we?"

"I say that we already have considering we lived through a war. We had no choice."

Ginny nodded as they walked to Flourish & Blotts. Hermione was lost in thought when she saw a familiar shock of white-blond hair that always turned golden in the sunlight. Hermione did a double take, but there was no mistaking that shade of hair.

She felt her stomach start to flip flop at the mere sight of him. It had only been a month since she's seen him, but it felt like a lifetime. She had almost forgotten about him, _almost_. But trying to forget him was futile. She secretly willed him to look up at her. She needed to see those eyes that had haunted her in her dreams and nightmares.

As if he heard her, he looked up and those grey eyes held her there. Her chest was heaving and her stomach rolled like she was about to be sick. She wanted to walk, no, run to him. To throw her arms around his neck as well as punch him like she did in their third year at Hogwarts. He always seemed to make a riot of emotions play out in her body. She never knew if she was coming or going when it came to him. He seemed as stunned as she.

"Hermione? Are you all right?" Ginny's voice cut through the fog that had settled around her brain.

"Hm?" Hermione asked turning to her friend. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine. I thought I saw someone, sorry," she said turning her head to look back to where Draco had been standing. All she could see was his back retreating.

Hermione sighed mentally. He always seemed so close yet so far away. Maybe it was for the best that he walked away from her now before she did something to embarrass them both. She gave Ginny a reassuring smile, or so she hoped, and headed into the bookstore to buy what she came for. Her mind was still flooded with the image of Draco the whole time she was there.

* * *

><p>Returning to the Manor, his <em>home<em>, felt stranger now than it had when they returned after the war. The Manor felt emptier than usual. It was probably because his father wouldn't be entering the place for a long time, or if ever again. The thought left his chest feeling hollow and cold.

He was the man of the house now. He was responsible for everything that happened there now. It was almost dreamlike to think about. He held all the power that he never wanted. He thought he did when he was a young boy. He thought he wanted a lot of things when he was younger, but now that everything was staring him in the face he realized that he didn't want any of it. But he didn't have a choice. He never had a choice.

But he decided that something was going to change. He didn't want to be his father and he knew the only way not to fall into the same routine he did was to change. And the first thing he needed to change was his father's company. It was toxic. It dealt in the Dark Arts and Draco was tired of being constantly connected to it.

Draco didn't know what the change he would bring to the company, but he knew it was necessary and that he was starting to take his first steps in the right direction.

His mother had been in a state since they sentenced his father. She was quiet and withdrawn and Draco knew that he wouldn't be able to get her to do anything so he left her alone. He could have used his 'rights' as the head of the house to get her to do whatever he wanted, but he wasn't his father. She needed time to grieve the loss of her husband. He wasn't dead, but he might as well be.

Draco told their remaining house elf to bring her tea and watch over her. The elf obeyed and Draco headed into his father's study. He hadn't stepped foot in the place in years. It didn't look how he had remembered it. It seemed to have lost its luster over the years.

The rows of books were dusty and the spines hard to read as he fingered them. He used to spend hours in here reading books and sitting in his father's chair pretending to sign things and look important, just like his father. He knew then that he couldn't pull off the same powerful scowl his father did when he was displeased with what he read or the famous raise of his eyebrow and the blank look on his face. Draco got the latter whenever he would knock on the door and enter without waiting on his father to grant him permission.

Draco stared at the leather wing-backed chair in front of him. He reached out with his right hand and rested it upon the arm rest. It was cold to the touch like no one had dared to sit in the thing for years. He moved his hand up to the back and down to the other side. This was no longer his father's chair, but his. He removed his hand, but continued to stare at the leather monstrosity. Maybe he should get rid of it and start anew.

He felt better as the thought of the idea sunk in. He knew that he wouldn't be able to rid the Manor of all of the malicious memories that it held, but he could try to erase and create as many new memories as he could now that he was in charge. Maybe now that power has fallen in his lap he could actually us it for the better and not just to wield around like an extension of his ruthlessness.

The truth was he was tired of having to be ruthless, ruthless in a way that made him seem like a complete asshole. Yes, Draco Malfoy _was_ and _still is_ an asshole, but he rather be that kind of asshole who is approachable. He would still be a shark when it came to the business, but he would be able to listen to opinions from others instead of shooting them down before they could utter a word like his father did.

If he could get one thing out of this whole mess, he would want it to be a reason for him to truly change the worst things about him. He wasn't going to go out and kiss the asses of Muggle-borns and say he's a changed man. No, things happen slowly or not at all. One thing at a time, _she_ had always told him. And he knew that she was right. That's why he knew it would work out, in due time.

**~-O-~**

Draco noticed his mother was starting to become herself once again several weeks after the trial had transpired. She would no longer sit in her room with the windows open as she sat on one of the window seats and stare longing out of them as if she wished she could grow wings and fly away and never return. Draco had let her stay in her solitude for awhile. He knew that she did need it after everything. But he kept a close eye on her.

He had come to her room everyday and would ask her if she would like to join him outside in the garden she had dearly loved for tea. She would always politely refuse. Draco wouldn't push it any further and would simply turn on his heel and stalk out of her room. But he would return the next day and ask the same question.

He didn't know if she just got tired of him coming into her room day after day asking the same damn question or if she truly was better. They really didn't speak about his father. Draco thought that she was worried she would upset him and vice versa. So they would speak of random topics and would speak in low voices like they would get in trouble by some unseen force if they spoke at a normal volume.

And that was how they lived their lives together for about a week and a half before Narcissa brought something up that Draco didn't feel very comfortable about at all.

"When are you going to start taking an active role in your father's business?" She had asked him as she sipped delicately from her teacup.

Draco set his own down and looked at her piercing blue eyes before he looked away from them. "I don't know, Mother. Hopefully soon. I need to make a few changes."

"Oh? What are you going to do?"

His grey eyes flickered over to her face once again and then back down at his untouched scone. "I don't quite know yet."

She nodded her head and took another sip of her tea. She barely made a sound as she drained her cup.

"Would you like more tea?" Draco asked quietly, the unseen force was back in the room again. Draco would later think of the unseen force as the 'elephant' in the room, the stuff he rather not speak about now or maybe ever.

"No thank you, dear. I think I'm going to take a walk out in the garden. I haven't been out there in…a long time." _Not since before the war broke out and the Dark Lord moved into our home_.

Draco stood and made to walk around the table to help her from her chair (like any gentleman should), but she held her dainty hand up to stop him.

"It's okay Draco. I can manage," she said before she scooted her chair back gracefully and without a sound and stood.

Draco watched her from his position. He often wondered if there was a silencing charm on the bottoms of the chairs so that they didn't make any obnoxious noise. He would have to ask his mother as some point, but all he could do was watch her as she made her way to the grand French doors and open both and disappear.

Draco felt his chest constrict and his stomach plummet at the irrational thought that floated through his head. Seeing her disappear outside like that felt like she was leaving him and it unnerved him. He didn't understand why he felt that way, but maybe it was the war mentality he still kept snuggled close to his mind _just in case_. But he knew it was stupid. She wouldn't leave him, too, not like his father had. He would always have her around.

He had to stop himself from running to the doors and calling out for her. He knew that if he did, she would look at him with those piercing ice blue eyes of hers and tell him that she was fine and he need not worry about her. But he couldn't help that he did. She was technically all he had left and that was particularly his fault. He felt like a small child, unknowing what to do with himself. To hang on to his mother's skirt like he did when he was a toddler or to finally stand on his own two feet and take the situation he had been dealt into his own hands. And he knew that he must finally be an adult. His time had finally come.

**~-O-~**

Draco was wandering not quite aimlessly around Diagon Alley. He never understood how one could wander aimlessly. You would have to make a decision to make your feet walk. And if you were struck with a crossroads you had to take one of the directions. You may not be completely there mentally, but it's not aimless. You have to make a decision.

But that was life anyways. You have to make decisions of you'll stand at that crossroads until you do. You can wait and let someone tell you where you should go or you can make yourself decide. And Draco was tired of waiting for someone to give him orders so he finally took everything into his own hands.

He had met with the man that was temporarily running or rather holding the fort down until Draco decided to man up and take the company as his own. His name was Alexander Cook III. Draco lost count at how many times he brought up the 3rd. He just wanted to sign the papers and be done with this man.

When Draco had signed the last of the documents, he silently thanked Merlin. Alexander Cook the bloody III held out his hand over the table and Draco shook it firmly before he stood and exited the café. Draco walked into the bright sunshine of late morning. He shielded his eyes against it before he turned his head away from it.

Thus began his not so aimless wandering. He was making conscious of where his feet were going, but he was also conscious of where his feet were not allowed to go. He never really paid much attention to his Tracing Anklet until he was out in public. The thing seemed to feel cold against his skin even though it was quite sweltering outside. He had noticed that it didn't light up until he was close to a place where he shouldn't be, like Knockturn Alley. He had no desire to go down into that dingy hole. He was simply walking passed it and toward Flourish & Blotts.

But something or rather, someone stopped him dead in his tracks. He could recognize that mop of curly mahogany hair anywhere. But of course denial and rationally slammed into the forefront of his mind. He rationalized it could be anyone. There were other women who had unruly brown curls that looked like a disaster upon their heads, but he knew he was kidding himself. He knew that no one could ever pull them off like she could.

He quickly averted his eyes and walked over to a window to make himself look as if he was rather absorbed in the display that he had no idea what it was. His mind wasn't on window display. It was on her movements. His brain willed her to look at him. He just wanted to see her face, the face that haunted his dreams. The damn face that comforted him more so than (he knew) anything would. He watched her walk with the female Weasley down the cobbled street, the whole time pleading with whomever to make her look his way.

And someone answered his prayers, apparently. Hermione Granger looked over at him as if she had seen a ghost. And she may have considering that he was staring at her back unabashed. Looking at her now, he realized he forgot so many details of her face. The light smattering of freckles on her nose that only seem to stand out when she was standing in natural light, the way her hair had natural red streaks when it hit the light, and the way her eyes looked amber and lit up when she recognized something. And that something was him.

He felt the tug in his chest like she had this invisible string attached to her wrist that was looped around his heart. He felt the pull of her very being as his feet moved an inch and then another and then another before he blinked several times like he had gone lame and stopped his decent into madness. Because it surely would have been madness. He would have gone over to her and placed his hands on the sides of her face and kissed her like he meant to at the end of the war—like he would never stop. And he knew that she would smack him, but he didn't quite care considering he would have those lips that he's been dreaming about on his once again—where they belonged. And he would hope that she didn't hate him and that she'd fall into his arms and everything would be like it was, but better.

And he knew that wouldn't, couldn't happen. She had to hate him. He had abandoned her and never said a word to her thereafter. Draco had to stop staring at those eyes of her before he made a complete fool of himself and ran to her without having a second thought. So he swiftly turned his back to her, severing the connection that he so willingly longed for and closed his eyes. He could see her feature etched perfectly behind his closed eyelids and part of him was thankful for that. He had forgotten so much of her perfection that he didn't want to ever lose it.

He finally opened his eyes and they were staring into the sun once again. It blinded and blurred his vision, but he felt that he could stand it. It dulled the terrible ache in his chest of having her so close, but so far away. He willed his feet to move and they did, back to the way he had come. He wanted to look back at her, but he forced himself to move forward and keep walking.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Hello all! I just couldn't stay away! I made a few changes to the other chapters. Nothing major, so don't worry. It was just a few grammar things here and there.

So they've finally seen each other! I liked writing Draco's emotions. I hope they don't seem too...much. But I hoped you enjoyed the chapter. Until next time mes amis!

And sorry for the technical difficulties. I don't know what's going on with this site anymore.

**Disclaimer:** I obviously do not own anything. I merely borrow characters and twist them into random plots.


	5. Proposals

**Chapter Five**

**Proposals**

_Finally open my arms wide__  
><em>_Finally I let you inside__  
><em>_Finally made it past the end__  
><em>_To finally begin_

_Weigh the pros but the cons come first__  
><em>_I've got a black belt in doubt__  
><em>_I get claustrophobic__  
><em>_All these open doors around__  
><em>_Still the pros are the hardest to ignore__  
><em>_I've never felt this light before__  
><em>_I took off my sunglasses__  
><em>_And waited for the words_

* * *

><p>Hermione had started searching for a flat a week after she and Ginny shopped in Diagon Alley. Hermione had spoken to her parents about moving out. When she first decided to bring it up, she was insanely nervous. She didn't know if it was too soon to let them off on their own. Hermione almost laughed at the thought. She felt like <em>their<em> parent and knew she was being silly.

They had told her that she was in fact being silly and needed to live her life. They had lived in Australia for a year and were fine. Hermione agreed with them. Maybe she was the one who wasn't ready to leave them since she just got them back. But again, she was being silly. So she started conducting her search by looking in the _Daily Prophet_ every day.

The flats she found were either not what she wanted, too expensive, or not in Diagon Alley at all. One day Harry, Ron, and Ginny asked how her search was going.

"Hm…not that great," she answered as she looked through the paper that day.

"I have an idea. I've been thinking about it since you said that you're looking for a flat," Ron spoke up.

Hermione put down the _Prophet_ and looked at the redhead in front of her showing he had her attention.

"I was thinking that maybe you can move in with George," Ron paused waiting for someone to interject. When no one did, he continued. "He's got an extra room—not F-Fred's," Ron said quickly before Ginny could say anything, "and let's face it, we're all worried about him and he needs someone to look after him. And Hermione, you can do that. You're like family to us and out of everyone; I think he would let you in. And it would also give you a place to stay," Ron's blue eyes looked into her brown ones.

Hermione didn't know what to say. Staying with George—someone she knew well enough—it would be ideal and he lived in a centralized location. It was what she had been looking for. But she didn't want to intrude on his space. She knew that he was still grieving over Fred, they were all still grieving over Fred, but George was a special case. He had lost half of himself and no one could ever understand that, _no one_. And she didn't know if she was certified for the job to keep an eye on him.

The Weasleys were like family to her and George was like one of her older goofy brothers, but now he was broken, completely and irrevocably. And she knew that she didn't have all the tools to help George, but she was willing to try something, anything.

"I'll try my hardest, but talk to him first. I don't want to just drop in on him," he said looking at Ron.

Ron nodded. "I'll ask him tomorrow. Hopefully this time he comes out of the backroom. Actually, I'm surprised he came downstairs at all."

The four teenagers lapsed into silence after Ron's statement all thinking about George alone—the only surviving twin. The visual was almost too much to think about. The two mischievous smiling faces that always greeted them at a family event was now lost forever. There was only one face, but it would a long time (or if ever) when they would see that same smile grace his face again. It may not be the same smile they were used to, but they knew that one day he would smile again.

"I think I'm going to go talk to him now, at least get him used to the idea," Ron said standing up and walking to the fireplace.

They watched him disappear in the green glow of the floo and then turned back to the table. The quiet that continued after Ron's exit was thick and uneasy. Hermione was wondering and worry about what George would say to Ron's proposal. Ron had been so sure that he would agree to Hermione staying there, but she didn't think that he would want anyone to stay with him. She figured he would want to be alone.

Hermione stood suddenly. She didn't want to be there when Ron got back for some reason. Maybe she didn't want to hear the bad news and be disappointed thus making her search even more necessary. Harry and Ginny looked up at her.

"I have to head home now. I forgot I promised my parents we would go out tonight for dinner," Hermione said lamely.

Harry and Ginny looked at her skeptically, but didn't say anything more.

"I-I'll see you all later. Tell Ron said goodbye and to owl me when if he has an answer for George," she waved and walked out of the house so quickly that if Harry and Ginny had said anything she wouldn't have known.

She quickly walked to the end of the wards and apparated home.

**~-O-~**

The next day Hermione decided to try a different avenue, looking for a job. She had owled her application and resume to the few jobs she found in the _Prophet_. One was a secretary job for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement and the other was work at the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione would rather work in the Ministry and get some experience in the department before she decided to work there when she finished her NEWTs.

Now all she could do was wait. The waiting game was something Hermione never liked playing. She was one of those go-out-and-get-it girls, but she knew that she had to. She wanted the job honestly not just because she was _the_ Hermione Granger, Heroine and Best Friend of the Boy-Who-Lived. She wanted everything on her own merits.

Yes, she worked hard during the war. Everyone who fought, either for the Light or the Dark, worked hard fighting for what they believed in, but Hermione always saw herself as one part in a whole. She never wanted to glory or the limelight. She could see why Harry wanted to lay low for a while and it didn't sound like a bad idea for her, but taking a break felt like wasting time. She could be doing so much more with her life and that's what she planned to do.

So working and completing her NEWTs was the plan. And whatever happens after that happens. She wanted to take things one step at a time. If she couldn't let herself take a break, she would let herself slow down. She had constantly been on the go helping others as well as herself, but this time she was going to help herself.

And it sounded selfish, but she realized that it wasn't. She was just living her own life. She never regretted helping Harry, not at all, but she was glad that it was over now. Hermione could finally live a normal life.

Her parents were proud of her that she wanted to keep going despite everything she had been through over the years. But they knew their daughter well enough that she wouldn't stop going after what she wanted even when she should take a well-deserved break.

Hermione heard from Ron the next day. Pig came twittering to her window that afternoon. It took Hermione five minutes to get the tiny feathered baseball to calm down enough to take the missive from his tiny leg. When she did, the tiny owl flew around her head several times until he found something else to fly around. Crookshanks sat in the corner and watched with his yellow eyes not daring to go after the hyperactive owl.

Hermione unrolled the parchment and read over the short letter:

_Hermione,_

_I spoke to George and he didn't seem to be opposed to the idea. I'll talk to him more about it tomorrow when I go to work at the shop. Maybe you can come in as well just to say hello and to just speak to him about the whole thing. Well, hope to see you tomorrow._

_-Ron_

Hermione felt a bit better about the situation with George. He didn't downright disagree with the idea, so there was still hope, but she couldn't help but to feel strange about talking to him tomorrow. What would she even say? He was still a human being, but he wasn't the George she had grown to know and love. He was almost like a shadow of that man.

But Hermione wasn't going to give up on him just because he wasn't the same. That was one of the main purposes for her to live with George, to help him as much as she could.

Hermione flipped the parchment over that Ron had used to write to her and said:

_I'll be there around noon and maybe we can all go to lunch together._

_-H_

She tied it to Pig after chasing him around her room and watched the owl do a few dizzying loops in the air before he zipped away.

**~-O-~**

The clock chimed at the top of the hour when Hermione arrived at the shop. Ron was sitting at the counter reading a magazine when he heard the bells over the door tinkle. His head snapped up and smiled at her when he spotted her.

"Hey Mione," he greeted.

"Hey. Ready to go to lunch?"

"Well George said that he rather cook and we could eat upstairs in the apartment."

"That's fine with me."

Ron stood from his stool and walked over to the door and flipped the sign to _Closed for lunch, be back in an hour_ and locked it before walking back over to Hermione. She followed him up the narrow stairs that led to the twins' flat.

Hermione had only been inside of the flat once all the years that the shop had been open. And from what she remembered it was lovely. When Ron opened the door, the flat was a complete disaster. There were papers strewn all over the floor, the dishes were piled up in the sink, and there were bags of garbage sitting next to the bin that needed to be taken out.

Ron turned his head to give her a grim look. "I know that it's a sty, but…"

"I know, Ron. No need to explain."

Ron walked over to a door, that Hermione figured was George's room, and knocked. A moment later, the door cracks open.

"George, its Hermione and I, we're here for lunch."

George didn't say anything, but simply opened the door and stepped out. Hermione had no idea what to expect when she saw him, but she wasn't expecting this. His face was gaunt. She had never seen anyone's cheeks so hollow. Fred and George had always been thin, but George was thinner than normal. It was hard to see him like this.

He turned his blue eyes to Hermione. They were bloodshot and dead-looking. Hermione wanted to run over to him that instant and hug him.

"Hello Geroge," her voice was a little shaky.

"Hi Hermione," he said in a monotone voice.

Hermione cringed at the sound of his voice. She had never heard it so lifeless.

"Hermione and I can cook if you want, George," Ron piped up.

"Yeah, it's definitely not a problem," Hermione said giving him a small smile.

George nodded and sat down in one of the chairs at the table.

Ron busied himself by starting on the dishes whilst Hermione looked around in the fridge and cupboards to cook something. She didn't find much, so she turned to Ron.

"I'm going to head to the store and pick up a few things to cook," she said quietly.

Ron nodded and continued on his task.

Hermione left the flat and grabbed ground beef, buns, cheese, and condiments before heading back to George's.

When she got there, Ron was done with the dishes and was starting on bagging up the parchment on the floor. The whole time Ron was doing this, George sat in the chair oblivious to everything. Ron gave Hermione a smile as she started cooking them burgers.

Hermione had all the food plated and brought to the table by the time Ron cleaned the apartment. It looked almost normal.

Hermione shoved a burger over to George and one to Ron before she sat down in her own chair. It felt awkward sitting there munching away on a burger whilst George sat in a chair with a blank look on his face. Hermione felt pity and sadness well inside of her.

"So, George, have you thought about what I asked you yesterday?"

George looked over at his little brother. He shrugged.

"Would you mind if Mione stayed here with you? You have an extra bedroom other than…" Ron didn't finish the end of his sentence, but they all knew what he had meant.

"I don't mind," George said in the same monotonous voice.

"Thank you George," Hermione said whole-heartedly.

He nodded and took a bite from his burger.

"I don't have a job yet, but I'm working on getting one. So I hope you don't mind that since I won't be able to pay you rent."

"You don't need to pay rent," he said quietly.

"But I don't want to loaf about either."

"Well, you can make dinner every other night. This burger is good by the way."

"I can do that or any work around the flat."

George nodded and continued eating. The three of them lapsed into silence, eating and thinking about who knows what.

When they were done, Hermione took all of their plates and started washing them up.

"Hermione," George called.

She turned around and looked at him.

"You can move in whenever you want," he said before disappearing back into his room.

Hermione felt herself smile and then she looked at Ron. "I promise to take good care of him."

"Thanks. Mum will feel a bit better now that he won't be alone."

Hermione nodded. It was going to be hard work, but Hermione was always up for a challenge.

* * *

><p>Draco finally had an idea what he wanted his father's, no his, company to focus on, Quidditch. It was genius. Draco was an avid fan as well as an appreciator of the game. He would be the one to get sponsors for any team that needed one.<p>

He was good at charming and getting what he needed from people, so this would be a piece of pumpkin pasty. He would speak to his solicitor about this to see if this could actually work. Then he would start to weed out the people who had sided with his father over the years. He didn't need the negativity and influence that his father surrounded himself with, not anymore. He would hire new people that would give the company a fresh start.

Draco was actually excited to run this company. Before he had completely dreaded it, but that was before he knew that what he could possibly do. It would hopefully help show the Wizarding world that the Malfoys weren't what they thought they were anymore. He could help clear their name and disentangle it from its affiliation with Voldermort.

"Have you figured out what you're going to do with the company yet?" Narcissa asked over dinner one night.

"Actually I have mother."

"Oh? What are you going to do?"

"I still have to speak with our lawyers, but I think I'm going to be an advocate for quidditch teams to get sponsors or whatever else they may need."

Narcissa put her spoon down on the table and gave her only son a smile. "That sounds like something you will do very well."

"Thank you, mother. I hope so. And I hope that it will work out."

"I'm sure it will, Draco. You're intelligent and you're a natural when it comes to business."

Draco nodded his head. "I just don't want to run this business like father did. I'm going to start new and fresh and hire new people. I don't want to the same people that influenced father to do the same for me. I want this company to be my own."

Narcissa nodded and remained quiet. "I know that you don't want to be like him Draco and you don't have to prove to me or anyone else that you aren't. I've known that about you for years and I'm proud of you. You know what you want and you're going after it."

Hearing his mother speak of him as so made his heart beat frantically in his chest. His mother actually believed in him and saw him as something more than a younger version of his father. If his own mother didn't see him as such, did the rest of the world? He supposed he would find out when he came out in the Wizarding world as an entrepreneur.

After dinner, Draco walked into his study and wrote to his solicitor and they agreed to meet the next day at the Manor to discuss everything. Draco felt good about this. He felt that he was doing something right for the first time in a long time.

**~-O-~**

Draco sat at his desk when his solicitor, Philip Andrews came through his floo.

"Mr. Malfoy," the squat man said as he brushed himself off and walked to the seat in from of the massive desk.

"Mr. Andrews. How are you this morning?" Draco asked, his hands folded upon the desk and a smile graced his face.

"I'm well and you?"

"Quite fine."

"Good, good. Now, what did you want to discuss today?"

"The nature of my business. I want to start anew."

"Very well, Mr. Malfoy. Let me grab the papers and then we can begin."

Draco nodded and watched as the man looked through his briefcase for the correct papers. He took out a quill and an inkwell.

"What were you thinking about changing your business over to?"

"I want to handle the sponsors that often offer themselves to the teams. Basically, I want to be the go between because let's face it, some teams don't know how to handle business and no need for either party to get ripped off," Draco said bridging his fingers.

The man stroked his chin with the end of the quill. "Very effective, Mr. Malfoy. It is needed and you'd be the perfect man to do it. I'll just draw up a proposal and then talk to each party and then get back to you."

"Very good. How long will that take?"

"No more than a week."

"Brilliant," Draco said holding out his hand to Philip.

"I'll be in touch," he said as he shook Draco's hand before putting the paper back in his briefcase and flooed away.

One part down, on to the next—firing those he didn't need and hiring new people.

* * *

><p><strong>Author's Note: <strong>Hello! I know, not a very exciting chapter, but I promise the next chapter will be! Feedback would be much appreciated. Thanks!


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